White Dyed Red
by Durbe the Barian
Summary: After the battle between Nasch and Vector, where did Durbe go? And more importantly, was he alive? Rated 'K ' for death mentioning. (Obviously)


**Zexal Oneshot**

**White Dyed Red**

**Friendship/Angst**

**Durbe/Ryoga**

**After the battle between Nasch and Vector, where did Durbe go? And more importantly, was he alive? Rated 'K+' for death mentioning. (Obviously)**

**(If I owned this stuff, you'd have seen it already.)**

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White Dyed Red

Nasch looked down at the bloodstained ground. He could hardly believe it. Only moments before, his fallen army had been scattered about him. His trembling hands were pressed close to his body as he struggled to maintain what little of his sanity that remained with him. The tears were falling down his cheeks quicker than he preferred. "My army," he thought. "I'm sorry. Had I not done this, you wouldn't have died. My friends...my sister...even Iris. I'm so sorry!"

The tears continued to fall until he noticed something on the ground. Something that didn't belong on a field now dyed red.

A feather.

A white feather with blood dotting it lightly.

"A feather?" Nasch wondered curiously.

He reached forward and grasped it with his fingers. Then he proceeded to examine it. "What is this doing here?" he wondered.

Then it hit him.

That wasn't just any feather. That was a feather from Mach's mighty wings.

"Durbe!" Nasch exclaimed.

He stood up quickly.

Maybe this war didn't have nothing but sadness and casualties. Nasch was alive.

Maybe Durbe was too.

He fingered the feather gently, so as not to damage it. Could his friend really still be alive? Did he win the Yami no Game in time to spare him of all people?

There was only one way to find out.

He called his name.

"Durbe!"

There was no answer. Not even a soft moan. "Durbe," Nasch breathed.

He started running. The first horse he found that could run, he jumped on its saddle and forced it to run. He had to find at least one survivor.

Just one, if any.

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He scoured the entire battlefield until sundown. Durbe was nowhere in sight. "Durbe!" Nasch called again. "Durbe! Answer me!"

No answer.

Did Durbe really...die? Did he die and leave Nasch all alone to fend off the guilt of losing every person he cared about?

He was just about to give up when he noticed another feather, this one almost dyed completely red with blood. It had fallen from the direction of the camp. So that's just where Nasch was going to go. "Hyah!" went he, giving his horse a brief, not-so-light kick to the sides. The horse broke into a full gallop. "If Durbe is still alive, he's obviously hurt," Nasch thought. "Hold on, my friend!"

The camp was in sight in no time at all. Hardly a thing had been touched. Not since Nasch left on his own to defeat Vector, bringing his trusted army into a grudge battle. How Rio would have scolded him.

He got off his horse and started walking around. "Durbe!" he called. The camp was small. Surely he'd find Durbe now.

He did.

But it wasn't what he wanted to see.

Durbe was against a rock near the river, his back pierced with several arrows. His white cape had been dyed red with his own blood. Mach, his trusted steed, had several red splotches of blood in his fur, and he was gently nudging his master's face with his muzzle.

"Durbe!" Nasch practically screamed. He ran to his side in an instant and lifted him up. Durbe's face was pale and sweaty. "Durbe! Speak to me!"

Durbe's eyes opened briefly. He was obviously in pain, but he still turned his head and looked at his friend. "Nasch," he said softly.

"Durbe!" Nasch said, almost excitedly.

Durbe's gaze softened, but still maintained its pained expression. "Gomen'nasai, Nasch," he said. "I tried to protect Iris-chan. I tried, but I couldn't get to her in time."

"So that's why his back is hurt," Nasch connected.

Durbe let out a groan of pain.

"Let's get you into the medical tent," Nasch said.

"No," Durbe breathed. "I sent your men into battle, and got them killed. Despite that, they still protected me. I am unworthy of being saved. Not after running away like a coward."

"You didn't run away," Nasch denied. "Don't forget that."

Durbe gave him a soft smile. "You're kind, my friend," he said.

Then he closed his eyes. [Don't freak out. He's not dead.]

Nasch's heart skipped a beat for a moment. But then he realized his friend had merely fainted from the pain. He looked up to Mach, who's face was clearly pained at the thought of losing his master.

Nasch didn't have a moment to lose. He lifted Durbe up carefully, so as not to worsen his already poor condition. Then he carried him to the medical tent and began treating his wounds.

The wounds he'd received in an attempt to protect an innocent life.

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The sun was still down by the time Durbe woke up. The entirety of his chest and back had been bandaged carefully. The same for his forehead and forearms. (Yes, he banged himself up like nobody's business.) He turned his head to the side, allowing his line of sight to peek through the window that had been cut into the tanned hide tent. He could see Nasch outside, staring down into the water.

He forced himself up and instantly regretted it. His entire body burned with pain. Only his trusted steed was capable of keeping him steady. "Ah, arigato gonzaimazu, Mach," he said.

Then Mach assisted him in getting outside of the tent.

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Nasch was unfocused, incapable of noticing the world around him. He gazed down at the water. (When I say 'gazing,' I mean he's just looking downwards. He's not actually doing much of anything.) "The word 'war' is just a friendly way of saying 'manslaughter,'" Durbe said, knocking his friend out of his stupor.

Nasch turned around. Durbe was just barely on his feet. "But I can't say I sympathize with Vector and his allies," the young knight finished, an almost cocky look on his face.

"What are you doing standing up!?" Nasch screamed. "You should be resting."

Durbe simply shook his head. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I'll return to my homeland when I've recovered enough to fly."

"Are you sure?" Nasch asked.

Durbe nodded. "I'm not going to let their sacrifices be in vain," Durbe said. "I shall forever remember the looks on their faces when they went to help you. True loyalty, something Vector lacked." He then looked up to the sky. "Do you think he's dead?"

"No," Nasch responded. "He's far too stubborn to die. He's still alive. Though I can't say he's stable."

"Stable?" Durbe repeated. "Are you saying you knocked some sense into that madman?"

"I don't know," Nasch said. "All I know is I defeated him at his own game. That won't come without repercussions."

"I only hope the people in his land are fairing better than we had. They don't deserve that madman as a king. Someone who abandons their principles to defeat another is nothing but trash. But...someone who takes the whole world on their shoulders to fight a battle that should never be...well, they're not too different."

Nasch jerked his head to look at his friend. "I'm not talking about just you, Nasch," Durbe continued. "I myself have done no different. I sent those men into battle and got them killed. You can't deny that. I was leading them. Their deaths fall on me." Durbe then put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You saved my life. Don't ever forget that. I swore to you that should you ever need my blade, I would gladly give it to you. I don't regret fighting by your side, nor shall I ever." He looked back down at the water. "I only regret not finishing this fight sooner. All those lives would have been spared."

"Durbe...," Nasch breathed.

Durbe shook his head again. "You're a great leader, Nasch," he said, turning back to the tent. "You should know that. Even if it was you against the world, I would still gladly give you my sword. After all, that's what friends are for, right?"

Nasch was slightly dumbstruck. Where did Durbe learn all this stuff? That was way too wise for a kid his age. (Don't ask his age. I don't know it.) And there is no way on earth he learned that stuff from a book. Maybe it came from having to fight through life and death situations too often.

Durbe smiled lightly before half limping-half staggering back into the tent, Mach supporting his every step. "You should get some rest," he said, his hand on Mach's neck. "A victorious king shouldn't return to his people in a state worse for wear. It's a terrible morale booster."

Now that sounded a little more Durbe-ish.

Nasch found himself laughing at him.

He stayed outside a little longer before going into his tent and falling asleep.

Durbe was right, though.

That wasn't a war. That was a manslaughter. Every member of his army, gone. His adoptive daughter of sorts, dead. His sister, sacrificed. His best friend, barely alive. Where was the victory in that? Where was the justice?

Durbe hadn't said it because he didn't want to break Nasch's heart, but in the battle of the two kings, there had been no victor. There had been no justice. Vector had nobody he cherished, nor anything he held dear. He was nothing more than a shell of a man, devoid of common emotions such as love or kindness. Meanwhile Nasch had lost almost everybody he could safely say he cared about. Nasch didn't succeed in anything.

He didn't succeed in anything at all.

It wasn't a war.

It was a grudge battle.

A grudge battle with no victor.

Just two broken hearts.

And one shattered soul.

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**D.T.B: I can't help but think that was kinda dark. Not that I didn't enjoy writing it. In fact, it was really refreshing. Anyway, now for the source of inspiration. I was watching episode 120 with my sister and I got to thinking, "Where was Durbe? He was fighting, so where was he at the end?" As you can most likely tell, this is the result.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Ja ne~!**


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